


Truth Will Out

by myleftsock



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, Feelings Realization, First Time, Hand Jobs, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn Logic, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Prompt Fill, Top Claude von Riegan, Truth Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:49:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28868070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myleftsock/pseuds/myleftsock
Summary: Lorenz gets dosed with a truth potion, and the truth leads him to Claude’s door.(Kinkmeme fill for Claurenz + truth potion)
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 114
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Truth Will Out

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [this kinkmeme prompt](https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/2082.html?thread=3558690#cmt3558690): Lorenz gets dosed with a truth potion. Which would be bad enough by itself but he’s also helplessly, head over heels, gagging for it, a total fool in love with Claude von Riegan. The one person he’s supposed to hate and has been pretending to hate up to this point.
> 
> Bonus: Lorenz was much less skilled at keeping his feelings secret than he thought and the one who gave him the potion did it because they were so sick of seeing him pining endlessly.
> 
> ++++Happy ending with them getting together.  
> +++First time sex with the potion letting Lorenz ask for exactly what he wants and telling Claude how unbelievably fucking sexy he finds everything about him.
> 
> ———
> 
> Please mind the tags! The fic is pretty lighthearted but because of the truth potion, I tagged it as mild dubcon just to be on the safe side. Also, this fic takes place pre-timeskip but after Claude turns 18.

Lorenz simply had to know what was in this Daphnel Stew. He knew the recipe, of course, but today, his favorite meal had electrified his taste buds like never before and he’d done nothing but sing its praises since he savored his last delectable spoonful.

He’d raved to Ignatz and Raphael at the lunch table, regaled Lysithea in the library, proselytized to Marianne in the stables, and extolled its virtues to Leonie at the training grounds.

“You should tell Claude, he loves that stuff,” Leonie had said mid-stab. She thrust her lance into a training dummy and withdrew it in quick succession, whipping it in an arc over her head before pointing it at Lorenz. “Want to go a round?”

It would be rude to turn even a common lady’s invitation down, but Lorenz’s head began to shake on its own. He tried to force his lips into an accord, but all that came out was, “I would rather do as you suggested and tell Claude about the stew. I shall do it now! Good day!” 

Leonie shrugged as Lorenz took his leave, flummoxed by the words coming out of his own mouth. Had he really made an excuse to avoid spending time in a lady’s company? And to spend time with Claude, no less! It was nonsensical. Why, he should have turned around and advised Leonie on her lance work, but…

He didn’t want to. He wanted to see Claude. 

Goodness. He  _ wanted _ to see Claude. He usually needed excuses to do that—no, not excuses,  _ valid reasons, _ like adding to his neverending list of suggestions to improve the academy, or explaining the best tactics to secure the future of the Alliance (and why Lorenz,  _ not _ Claude, was the right man for the job).

But, valid though those needs were, they could be addressed in any class meeting. What reason did Lorenz have to call upon Claude in his room other than the fact that he was madly in love with him? 

_ What? _

Lorenz recoiled in horror. How could his own thoughts betray him this way? The very notion was preposterous. This visit was about  _ stew.  _ Stew, and confessing his love, and reenacting last night’s scandalous dream...

Oh dear. 

He was in love with Claude. 

The truth stole the breath from his lungs. He swooned under its weight, the ludicrous clarity of it all.

True, Claude did possess a certain roguish charm, if one liked that sort of thing. 

(Lorenz did.)

And his smile was the sort that haunted dreams and sparked fantasies, if one was prone to entertaining such frivolities. 

(Lorenz was.)

Claude was clever, cunning, bold, funny, handsome, and debonair—all traits that made him a fine choice for any lady. 

(And for Lorenz.)

Well. This was the sort of realization that called for careful reflection, life reevaluation, and perhaps a visit to the Advice Box. 

So why did his feet carry him to Claude’s door? And why was he knocking when he could simply retire to his own room and ponder this development in private? One knock could be an accident, but thrice he rapped on the door, like fate itself was controlling his hand.  


Thumps and hissed words sounded from inside Claude’s room and Lorenz’s heart pounded harder every second Claude didn’t answer. Had he caught Claude in the middle of a scheme? Oh, how his spine tingled at the prospect—blast, these irksome feelings again! Was this why he so relished finding Claude in compromising positions? 

Claude opened the door and Lorenz’s chest ached at the sight of him, his tousled hair and rosy cheeks. Sweat glistened at his brow and gleamed on his shoulders. Goodness, he was only half-dressed! Upon closer inspection, his undershirt was backwards, and was Lorenz just imagining it, or was that a  _ bulge  _ in his pants? Just what had he been doing? 

“Lorenz!” Claude sounded breathless, like he had in Lorenz’s dream. “Thought that was you. What brings you to my quarters?” 

He knew Lorenz by sound? Lorenz’s stomach flipped. But just because he was here didn’t mean he had to divulge all of his secrets. In fact, he didn’t have to say anything Lorenz squeezed his lips together as tightly as he could, but they moved on their own. “I am here because today’s Daphnel Stew is especially delicious. I know it is a favorite of yours, and I thought you should know.”

Really? Not only could he _not_ keep his mouth shut, but he couldn’t even muster a white lie? What had gotten into him today?

Claude raised one lovely, sweat-kissed eyebrow. “I do enjoy a good stew, but is that really all you wanted to tell me?”

There was absolutely no need to tell him anything more. Lorenz imagined sewing his lips shut, locking them and discarding the key, lopping off his very tongue, but words swarmed his mouth like bees, zipping this way and that, banging into his cheeks to try to escape.

Claude reached for him and touched his arm. “You okay, Lorenz?” 

The bees won.

“No, Claude, I am most certainly not okay! I came to your room to tell you that your handsome face haunts my every dream! You occupy my last thoughts before sleep takes me and my first when I wake! You infuriate and tempt me with your wit and charm, and I long for the day when we might put this absurd rivalry behind us so that I might act on the affection I have kept locked inside my heart since we first met! I am infatuated with you, Claude von Riegan. I am in love with you and I could not wait another minute to proclaim it!” 

So much for secrets. The words flew out in almost one breath, and Lorenz stood there panting for what felt like hours while Claude gaped at him. 

Claude squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them again, that tantalizing gleam burned bright once more. “Is that so?” 

_ “Is that so?”  _ Lorenz repeated. “Is that all you have to say to me? I pour my heart out at your door and you—”

“Would you like to come inside, Lorenz?” 

Lorenz answered by pushing Claude into his room and slamming the door behind himself. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Claude, staring at Lorenz in fear or fascination. Perhaps both. 

Lorenz spared a glance around his room. Pieces of Claude’s uniform lay strewn about the floor, haphazard. Had he been in that much of a rush to train? 

As if reading his mind, or perhaps just watching his gaze, Claude said, “Sorry about the mess. I was...well, since we’re being honest…” He cleared his throat. “I was just thinking about you.”

For the first time today, Lorenz found himself at a loss for words. Barely decent, gasping for breath, and thinking about _him?_ “What were you doing?”

“Come on, Lorenz,” Claude urged, stepping closer. He winked. “Use that big brain of yours and figure it out.”

Lorenz knew he was being mocked, but he didn’t protest because his big brain chose that moment to connect the pieces. “You were...you were pleasuring yourself!” 

“Give the man a prize!” Claude said, clapping his hands a few times. “So, care to join me in finishing what you interrupted?”

And even though the question was thoroughly inappropriate and Claude was probably joking, Lorenz had no doubt of the answer. 

“I would like nothing more!” 

Claude’s swagger faltered again, but with a blink it was back. “All right, how about we start with a kiss?”

Lorenz was nodding before he opened his mouth. “Yes, yes, kiss _ —mmph!”  _

The words were lost to Claude’s mouth, firm and demanding against his own. Whatever was going on, whatever possessed Lorenz to divulge his innermost desires, it was more blessing than curse, and once Claude’s tongue entered the equation, Lorenz was done questioning it. 

He returned the kiss with ferocity, relishing Claude’s muffled little yelp. Kissing him was every bit as sweet as his dreams, only he never imagined this much passion on Claude’s end. Claude kept his distance from everyone, physically and emotionally, but this embrace was anything but aloof; it warned Lorenz from the inside out.

That voice in his head, usually so quiet and easy suppressed, demanded more—and it wasn’t just his mind. The longer they kissed, the harder Lorenz got. He might have been embarrassed but Claude was just as aroused, the proof proud against Lorenz’s thigh.

If Lorenz understood him correctly, Claude only wanted to masturbate together. But how could that ever be enough to sate them? Lorenz rocked his hips, hands roaming Claude’s back until he could take it no longer. 

“Claude,” Lorenz threw his head to the side. “Take me, I want you to— _ oh!” _

Claude reached down to stroke his length over his trousers. “What do you want me to do?” 

“Take my...” Lorenz could hardly speak, Claude’s hands felt so divine. “Take my gift! You must. No one else will do.”

“Are you asking me to take your virginity, Lorenz?” Claude asked teasingly.

“Yes,” Lorenz moaned, “if you must say it so crassly. Deflower me, claim me, make me scream your name in ecstasy!” 

Claude pulled back to look at him, his gaze intense, questioning. 

“Claude von Riegan, if you ask me if I really want this I shall slap you!” Lorenz told him. Who knew how long they had before they woke up from this blissful daydream?  


Claude searched his face, then said, “As you wish.” He gave him one kiss before ripping off his undershirt.

Claude’s chest was nothing short of majestic up close. Lorenz had seen him training shirtless before, but only for a moment, and at a distance. The sight of his brown skin and that trail of soft-looking hair had fueled months of fantasies, all of which were now coming true as Claude began working at the fastenings of Lorenz’s uniform. 

“Tell me what you want,” Claude went on, nipping at his neck between words. 

_ “Yes.” _ Lorenz didn’t even try to stopper the words flowing from his mouth. “Kiss my neck…” He moaned as Claude obeyed, sucking his neck hard enough to leave marks to match his hair. It wasn’t enough. “Touch me, Claude!”

“Where?” Claude murmured as he let Lorenz’s clothes fall to the floor. “Where should I touch you?”

“My chest…” Asking was easy once Lorenz let go. Claude rewarded his candor, rubbing his smooth, exposed skin with both hands. Slowly, those rough, calloused fingers moved closer and closer to the centers, circling them until Lorenz uttered words that had never before crossed his lips: “Touch my nipples, I need _ —ahh!” _

Claude did, and every nerve in Lorenz’s body seemed to fire at once. Pleasure like he had never known coursed through him as Claude teased, flicked, and pinched his nipples to hard peaks like they were his playthings. It was incredible, far better than touching himself; so much better, in fact, that panic flooded his brain just like the precome flooding his member. Just because he was a virgin did not mean he wanted to come in such an undignified way. 

“I— _ oh, Claude _ —it’s too much, I—”

And just like that, Claude stopped, hands dripping to Lorenz’s waist instead. 

“Take my pants off,” Lorenz said impatiently, anticipating Claude’s next question. 

Claude smirked, sending another hot pulse down Lorenz’s spine. “You got it.” 

Deftly, he undid the fastenings and pulled them downs. Cool air rushed Lorenz’s dripping hardness as Claude kicked his own pants aside. Lorenz closed his eyes, afraid that looking down might break this spell. Heat radiated off of Claude, his breath hot at Lorenz’s ear as whispered, “Where should I touch you next?”

“M-my…” This was even harder to say, but it would have been difficult to pronounce his own name at that point. “My manhood.”

Claude chuckled, low and breathy. “I thought you might call it something like that.”

But before Lorenz could defend his wording, Claude did exactly as he asked.

Lorenz almost came the moment Claude’s hand closed around him. He didn’t care about the shockingly undignified noise thst had escaped his lips, not when Claude was stroking his shaft as if he knew exactly how Lorenz liked to touch himself.

Unable to resist any longer, Lorenz looked down, and his knees nearly gave out.

“Easy,” Claude said, steadying him with one hand on his hip. His other hand,  _ oh, his other hand, _ worked Lorenz up and down, gripping his foreskin just tight enough to build up that glorious friction Lorenz craved. Claude’s thick, graceful fingers, adorned with long, dark hairs so very different from the purple wisps Lorenz shaved from his own knuckles, looked every bit as good as they felt. Lorenz could watch his hand forever, eclipsing and revealing the head of his manhood, but the fire coiling low in his belly was growing more urgent by the second. 

Lorenz had to look away. His eyes landed on Claude’s length and another crude noise slipped out of his mouth. Claude was  _ maginificent, _ deliciously girthy and swollen almost purple, with a veritable nest of coarse hair at the base. For a fleeting moment, Lorenz wanted to bury his nose in it, but that would put his manhood out of Claude’s reach so he wove his fingers into those luxurious curls instead.

Claude let out a soft laugh and asked, “You like that?”

“I love it,” Lorenz gushed, tugging gently and memorizing the way Claude moaned. “I love your body hair, it plagues my every dream.”

“Tell me, Lorenz”—Claude stretched his fingers to stroke Lorenz’s smooth groin—“are you naturally hairless or does the rug match the drapes?”

“It’s purple!” Lorenz blurted. “I shave it!”

“Fuck.” Claude closed his eyes and shivered. “I knew it.”

It was all too much—that forbidden word, the fact that Claude thought of him in that way, the touching of course, and that shiver… “Not like this!” Lorenz cried out. “I need you inside me now, please, I…”

Claude swore again, releasing Lorenz like he’d been burned. “Anything, Lorenz, let me just—” He turned to his desk, rifling in an open drawer until he produced a bottle. Uncorking it, he dribbled oil into his palm and bit his lip as he began slicking himself. Lorenz burned with anticipation. He was scared, too, but he trusted Claude with his life and his virginity.

“How do you want me?” Claude asked, his voice strained in the best way. 

Lorenz didn’t have to think twice. “Facing me,” he said, “on the bed. You on top.”

Once more, Claude cursed, then he nodded. Lorenz scrambled for the bed. He could feel his heartbeat in his loins, every muscle within him aching for Claude as he lay down on his back. Then, Claude was above him, radiating that confidence Lorenz adored. 

“I’ll be gentle,” Claude promised. 

“That will not be necessary,” Lorenz replied. Claude almost fell on top of him. He recovered with a dashing grin and started to line himself up, fingers just barely shaking. It was flattering, knowing he affected Claude almost as much as Claude, him. Lorenz stroked the back of his hand reassuringly, and Claude swallowed. 

“Ready?”

“I have thought of little else since last night,” Lorenz admitted. 

Claude’s eyes fluttered shut and slowly, he pushed against Lorenz’s rim.

Ah,  _ this  _ was what it felt like to be claimed, opened, stretched to fit Claude exactly: a tight pull within him, like the first buds of spring unfurling beneath the sun. The deeper Claude entered him, the better it felt, awakening sensitive nerves Lorenz didn’t know he possessed. No wonder he had never imagined losing his virginity to a woman—it was always meant to be Claude, and no one else would ever be able to satisfy him.

With a soft grunt, Claude pushed in past the head, still gentle, eyes locked on Lorenz. If Lorenz so much as flinched, Claude would stop, and that knowledge turned him on even more. He tightened reflexively. Claude sucked in a shallow breath, pausing to exhale before easing in further.

“So tight,” he whispered. “It’s a lot.”

“We can stop if you need to,” Lorenz leaned up to tell him. Perhaps it was a bit of a challenge, but he meant it. Simply having Claude inside him was incredible and he’d take anything he was given.

“Not a chance,” Claude fired back, charging Lorenz’s very soul. Hands firm on Lorenz’s hips, Claude sheathed himself to the hilt in one smoother motion, filling Lorenz so wholly they both cried out in ecstasy. 

_ Now _ he was complete, one with Claude in body and mind, and he fell back on the bed, lost to the gravity of the moment. Dreamily, he gazed up at Claude. He, too, seemed overwhelmed, his chest rising and falling as he breathed hard through his nose with his eyes closed. 

“Claude?”

“Yes, Lorenz?”

“I would like you to move.”

Claude didn’t ask him to repeat it. He pulled back, past all those wonderful places he had uncovered within Lorenz, almost all the way out. Pushing back in was easy now that Lorenz was stretched to his every contour. Each thrust was better than the last, and more confessions spilled out, things Lorenz would never remember and was likely to deny when pressed. But Claude’s confessions? Those, he would never forget.

“I hear you some nights,” Claude said, passion and pleasure leading his voice astray. “Calling my name in your room. I see the way you look at me. I knew, Lorenz.” 

“Harder,” Lorenz called, jaw going slack as Claude did as he was told. He was lucky he could form words at all with all these sensations rushing through him, picking up speed like an avalanche on a rampage. “Faster,  _ yes!” _

“I tried to hide it, but every time we fight leaves me wanting more,” Claude went on, hips picking up speed. He didn’t need magic or poison or arrows to kill, no—Lorenz was going to die of pleasure, of dreams fulfilled. A true crime of passion. “I think about you when I touch myself, I think about you when I fuck other people, I think about you when I lie awake wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do next…” 

He spoke with all the intensity of a curse, like he was as mad as he was aroused. It only drove Lorenz wilder. He grasped at the sheets in a feeble attempt to steady himself, urging Claude on though he could barely stand his pace. Claude had more to give, snapping his hips so hard and fast that Lorenz had to brace the headboard behind him to withstand the force. The bed slammed the wall again and again, but Lorenz couldn’t hear it, couldn’t fathom anything but Claude and his punishing rhythm. He was so very close, right on the edge of his sanity—that was the only excuse for his filthy language. 

“Claude, my co—”

Claude spared his dignity, grasping Lorenz’s cock before the word left his mouth and jerking him hard. 

Two pulls took Lorenz under. 

Pleasure crashed through him, blacking out his mind and his senses. He had never come before, not like this. Claude was everywhere—inside him, above him, around him, pervading the recesses of his mind. 

He barely registered Claude coming, filling him with his glorious seed and pressing kisses to his sweat-drenched brow.  


One of them. or maybe both, kept whispering something like “perfect,” over and over again as they rode out the last of the waves. Too soon, the pleasure faded and Claude slipped out, setting loose a small flood that should have disgusted Lorenz but only made him sigh in satisfaction. 

Claude dropped to the bed beside him. “Fuck—Lorenz.” He was still trying to catch his breath. “That was incredible.” 

Lorenz knew he was speaking the truth when he replied, “It was everything I wanted and more.” 

“Next time,” Claude said, running a finger through the mess on Lorenz’s stomach, “I want to see those purple pubes of yours.”

Lorenz almost choked on his saliva. 

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry,” said Claude, stretching his arms above his head. “What say we clean up and go have some of this stew you were raving about?”

“Together?” Lorenz asked.

“Naturally.” Claude raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’d prefer to keep this thing we have going _out_ of the bedroom from now on?”

Lorenz shook his head so fast the room spun. 

“Great.” Claude smiled. “Me neither.”

When they reached the dining hall side by side, Lorenz could have sworn he saw Leonie tossing a potion bottle into the waste receptacle, but he was probably seeing things. After all, it had been a wild day.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to hit as many bullet points as I could! I have never written a truth potion fic before but I wanted to try something different, and it’s always fun to get Lorenz to say sexy words. I hope I did it justice! 
> 
> I said I was gonna get Lorenz’s purple pubes in a fic, but I cheated this time. Next time for sure!


End file.
